A Trek Into

A Natural Wonder of Passion

Southern California has more than two-thirds of California's thirty million plus occupants, and Los Angeles is its largest metropolitan area. Los Angeles is a large sprawling urban area. L.A. is next to the beach, the mountains, the desert -- and any style of living is possible. Entertainment is unlimited with the city's offerings of everything that could be asked for and its attractions range from huge recreational urban neighborhood parks to Theme Parks, museums, universities and the zoo. L.A. has everything -- cathedrals, the first freeway system, Angel's Slide and of course freeway and street shootings mixed with the occasional city riots and sports events.

Many have found the entrance, but few people know much beyond that. The entrance is that area a little over 20 miles from downtown, in the Angeles National Park, that provides pristine wilderness. Most who find it are just out for a drive and seldom venture more than two miles from where they park. It's that two miles that is covered with graffiti where paint and scratchings mark everything. It seems a pastime of many to cover rocks with their own name, their boy or girl friend's name, their gang's markings, or just frivolity. It is this area that is smeared with the detritus from places of fast food and vomit to society's used condoms, discarded panties and their matching bra's.

But, if you venture further, an easy day's walk... well, it's more like an easy day's hike because you find yourself at chores like wading the river, climbing the mountain and boulder-hopping. But, back about five miles from the nearest parking spot is where it starts. Wild animals like deer and mountain goat, rattlesnake, coyote, skunk, rabbit, possum, and raccoon are abundant. And fresh running water in the springtime -- lots of it fills the river. After a storm it's not unusual to find white water of the river filling the gorge, running with speed and force enough to rip out trees and lift twenty foot boulders. During or after a storm is not the time to visit. A storm twenty miles distant can fill the canyon in moments.

There are at least three ways to get there. Down from the Angeles Crest highway, if you can find a place to park, up over the mountain or up the river wading because it cuts through shear rock walls that line its edge. My first time back I had taken the easy route. It was up the cascades of the East Fork of the San Gabriel River. I wasn't sure what I'd find, but was fascinated by the beauty. I'd taken off on my own... a very foolish thing to do in retrospect. I was back perhaps eight miles and had only recently left the river, removed my wet athletic shoes, tied them together and draped them over my backpack. As I came over a small rise I spotted a wide, plush green meadow still cool from the spring storms. The grass was the deepest green and knee deep. A creek of ice-cold snowmelt ran through it, and in the center was the clearest, deepest pool of fresh water. In distant history the pool was somehow hollowed out of the sun warmed rock.

I was mesmerized at its beauty and wanted nothing more than to enter it nude and submerge myself in its freshness. I wanted to drink of its sweet water and sun myself on the surrounding rock. There was no one around for miles and the serenity was a balm to me.

I was thinking of this because its fond rememberance had popped into my head when I first saw you lying on the bed. The sheets were folded back and their color accented your body. In the center was that shadowed, pink heaven I'd been longing for and never tasted. And like that pristine wilderness area, your breasts rose to lofty heights above it and were crowned with beauty like the year-round mountain top snow. The very peaks were breathtaking in their cherry grandness. A valley ran from the cleft of your neck, down between your breasts and meandered across your tummy before plunging into that shadowed area that formed my pool.

I wanted, once again, to feel and taste majesty. I wanted to drink from your pool and sun myself in the light reflecting from your body. I want to lie upon your warmth. The spread of your tummy from thigh to thigh and mountain to valley was like the beauty and flatness of my meadow and at its center was my pool. It was my refreshment from the day's hike, and a place to rest and experience... slowly. Its sweet fruit beckoned me and I knew the sweetness that would be there as I unclothed and prepared to immerse myself.

But, like that first time on the mountain, I wanted to savor the moment and drink in the view. I wanted the anticipation to build and shout its demand to my body. I wanted that languorous feeling that I remembered as my cock, too, experienced the water that day. It's excitement as I doffed my jeans and first entered that warmed water, to feel it surrounded and petted by the gently flowing water. I studied your beauty.

Like the tall pine around that pool, reaching to the heavens, I noticed your arms stretched out to me and I wanted to dive headfirst into your pool and spend my day there. Slowly I trudged across the floor, much like through that deep green meadow, to reach you. I climbed to the foot of the bed upon my knees and slowly crawled forward to you. It reminded me of the way I'd climbed those cascades.

I leaned over you, my cock erect and suspended above your hips as my mouth opened to taste you. My tongue licked your breasts and the taste was as sweet and creamy to my tongue as the first summer's ice cream cone on a hot day... that sweet creamy melting chocolate. I trekked those mountains and circled them before climbing to the peak and tasting that winter's snowcap. And, like the milkshake topped with whipped cream and a cherry, I tasted your fruit and my palate was crazy with lust.

I climbed over those mountains and up through the pass to your wet, inviting lips and we kissed. Your tongue was alive like a wild mountain goat as it jumps in excitement from rock to rock, and your breath was as sweet as the campground's first meal at end of day... your mouth the warming bonfire that keeps me through the night.

I felt your touch, much as the warmth while sunning alongside that pool. Your fingers and hand closing and protecting me from the day's trials, while my lips descended to your neck and I again tasted the cream of your skin. Your legs came up and enclosed me, while your hand began its own long journey and invited me along. I remembered standing next to that oasis in the meadow, stark naked and aroused by the kiss of nature. My arousal pointing into the wind much the way my cock now pointed toward your oasis.

You moved your head and felt my lips at work as I began trailing small kisses and licks across and under your chin, pausing where your chin might rest while sleeping upright in a chair. I heard you moan softer than the wind through those lofty pines. Like the wild cougar searching for dinner, I felt your hips moving and your hand stroking me as you guided me to my night's rest. As if slipping into my sleeping bag without unzipping, I felt your pussy sheathing me and providing all of the warmth I needed. And as I might reach and zip that bag from inside, I reached and stroked you.

The hard-on I feel each morning is nothing as the hard-on that I now felt as you surrounded me. You explored my wood as I sought to explore you. My urgency caused my hand to move from your clit and both of my hands were around your hips, straining and pulling you up to me hard as I stroked. Like a small L.A. earthquake, I felt you climax and then you were trembling again. Our passions broke loose like an earth slide after that quake and I rushed headlong down that slope and into you.

Our passion cooled momentarily just as a circling eagle might regain its breath, before curving over into a steep, screaming dive, and we began again. I wanted you, and I wanted to satisfy you entirely, and so when you climaxed again, I hesitantly pulled out and you gasped. It wasn't for long as I again crawled backwards up that pass until I was at its center and I closed my mouth on your lips. My exploration began as it had underwater in that pool. My tongue delved into you as my fingers did long ago in that pool. I was searching for something delicate and evasive... hidden from common scrutiny, but precious to those that found it.

My tongue located it and begins its excavation. My lips surrounded to protect it from other marauders and now my hands too, joined the search. I tasted the wildness of you and the sweet taste of your excitement on my tongue and lips. The finest herbs are bitter and foul in the presence of such exquisite flavor. I breathed your scent on the air, and swirled your taste in my mouth like the finest of wine was tasted, but you were more flavorful and intoxicating.

Cum with me I urged. Join me in my journey and my quest to merge with you. Give me of your attention and your favors. Thrust with me and feel my penetration. Flood me with your very essence. Let me taste the divine release. Such proud lips contain a succulent morsel of you that is now firm between my lips and under assault by my tongue. Let me hum my pleasure and breathe my passion. Can you feel me playing my trumpet on your clit? My symphony of love?

Your sweetness filled me and yet your body told me you wanted more. May I lie a moment and provide a seat for you? A saddle perhaps and a saddle horn to straddle? May I fill you and pleasure you? May I furnish you an inner massage that might serve to stimulate? Ah yes! You please me and your weight rests lightly upon my loins. Your body is making me drunk with passion. I am lost in intoxication and care not to wake tomorrow. I am lost in my forest of wonder and seek no exit. I have you.